


Influenza

by Heliocat



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: But not that type of Lemon, Caring, Comfort Food, Home remedies, Influenza, Lemon, M/M, Nursing, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26994970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heliocat/pseuds/Heliocat
Summary: Ash gets sick, and Eiji insists he stays home so he can care for him. Ash is a grumpy patient, but Eiji perseveres.
Relationships: Ash Lynx & Okumura Eiji, Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 4
Kudos: 113





	Influenza

**Author's Note:**

> Had a weird flash of inspiration, of Ash being a moody little shit while ill and Eiji attempting to look after him with Japanese remedies. Good excuse to write them both bickering and teasing each other. 80s setting, so no SARS, no covid... just good ol' bog-standard 'flu. Realistically, it'll take you longer than a day to bounce back from 'flu too, but... Ash is a special case.
> 
> I'm English, so British English has been used for spelling and grammar. Stuff written <"like this"> is Eiji speaking Japanese.
> 
> Many thanks to Akimi Yoshida for creating Banana Fish - this is a work of fanfiction, so I own none of the intellectual property.

Ash awoke feeling like death warmed up. He’d gone to bed the previous night feeling severely fatigued and with a scratchy throat, but figured it was more to do with stress and the fact he’d been shouting at people a lot recently. Now he realised, as every joint in his body ached and his throat felt like he’d swallowed a dozen razor blades, that he’d probably picked up a nasty virus from somewhere. Bones had been coughing a lot lately, and wasn’t exactly one to cover his mouth either, so he seemed a likely patient zero, although it could just have easily been any old random sick person on the street. Sing had mentioned several of his guys had come down with 'flu, so there was something doing the rounds. It didn’t really matter – all he knew was, right now, he felt terrible.

He’d have to suck it up and deal with it. He didn’t have a stuffy nose, at least not yet, and while his chest was a little tight it was manageable. He had several things he wanted to do today, and a little virus was not going to stop him! He rolled out of bed, groaning as the room seemed to spin, head pounding with the mother of all headaches. His stomach flipped unpleasantly, and he dashed to the bathroom, heaving. He made it just in time, projectile vomiting the scant contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.

Eiji heard him gagging, the sounds of sickness waking him up. He stood in the bathroom doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Unusual you up before me,” he yawned. “You feel okay?”

“Does it look like I feel okay?” Ash growled, before gagging and spitting up more bile.

“No,” Eiji admitted, sounding more awake. “To me, you sound very sick.”

“I’m fine.”

“That why you throw up in toilet?” Eiji smirked. “I do not know American customs but, in Japan, throw up in toilet mean you sick!”

“Hah hah.”

“I go make breakfast. Maybe you feel better after eat something.” He left Ash hugging the bowl to go and prepare some food for them both.

Ash really didn’t feel like eating right now. He felt like he’d love nothing more than to go back to bed, but that wouldn’t achieve anything. Maybe Eiji was right; maybe eating something will help settle his stomach. He stood shakily, leaning heavily onto the bathroom sink. He turned on the tap, gave his hands a quick wash and rinsed his mouth with cool water, spitting the acrid taste of stomach acid out. He gave his teeth a quick scrub with a toothbrush to completely remove the taste.

 _‘Quick hot shower will make me feel better,’_ he thought. _‘If nothing else, it’ll wash the sweat off.’_

He turned on the water, giving it a minute to heat up to his desired temperature of just slightly cooler than the surface of the sun, before stripping and stepping into the bathtub. Showers always made him feel better. They washed away all sorts of things; dirt, sweat, blood, sins… Logically he knew it would do nothing for a viral infection, but the hot water felt nice anyway. He was reluctant to get out. Eventually, he had to, the water starting to turn cold. By the time he’d found a clean shirt, Eiji had finished breakfast and was shouting at him from the kitchen.

“Ash – food! Come eat before soup gets cold!”

Another one of his Japanese breakfasts was waiting at the kitchen table, although it was a little less complex than normal. He hadn’t had time to cook fresh rice, but he’d used some leftovers from yesterday to make some rice balls with flaked canned tuna. There was a bowl of miso soup to accompany, and he’d cut a couple of apples up into segments. He’d partially peeled a couple of the segments into a cute style so they looked like rabbits, peel ears standing up. He’d fully peeled all of his own – most Japanese people tended not to eat fruit peels, but he’d left it on Ash’s. Ash had once berated him that ‘most of the vitamins are in the peel’, so he’d taken to just washing things for him and leaving them unpeeled unless they were things like oranges or bananas where it is blatantly obvious that the skin is unpalatable. 

He managed to force down the miso soup and he nibbled the top corner off a rice ball before giving up. His appetite today was non-existent, and now he was shivering. He also coughed a few times, a dry, hacking bark.

“Ash, you no eat,” Eiji said, concerned. “You not just have stomach ache, do you?”

“No shit…” Ash growled sarcastically, although his voice lacked its usual venom and his eyes had lost some of their vibrant intensity.

“I thought… maybe hangover? But you really sick!”

“Hangover? Eiji, you were with me all last night! I was sober!”

“Sober-ish.”

“I had one light beer.”

“You still underage,” Eiji shrugged, standing. “Anyway, this not hangover. You shivering.”

“I’m fine!” he lied, trying to squirm away as Eiji placed a hand on his forehead. He put his other hand against his own as a comparison.

“You on fire!” he exclaimed, looking concerned.

“That is a really stupid way of taking a temperature, you know!” Ash said in a know-it-all tone. He coughed again as Eiji ignored him, rummaging around in one of the kitchen cupboards. He found the first aid kit and took the thermometer out.

“That may be rough guess, but this accurate!” he responded. “Open mouth! Put thermometer under tongue.”

“Where else is it gonna go?” Ash grumbled.

Eiji raised an eyebrow. “I show you if you no open mouth,” he threatened. “Sun no shine there.”

Ash obediently opened his mouth and accepted the thermometer, rolling his eyes. He passed it back to Eiji after a couple of minutes.

“See, I’m fine!” he said. Eiji stared at the reading, frowning.

“Ash, you have temperature of 39°C…”

“Fahrenheit please, Eiji, we don’t use silly things like metric here in ‘Murica.”

“I thought you smart? You no convert it yourself?” Eiji snarked.

“Maybe I’m too _sick_ right now to do math!” Ash shot back. “So go ahead – tell me exactly how _sick_ I am!”

“103°.”

“Jesus, that is high…” he muttered.

“That settles thing. You stay home today!”

“What? Eiji – I can’t afford to stay home right now!” he argued. “I am so close to negotiating something big with the Puerto Rican boss, and there’s a new study just released on psychoactive drugs that the library was gonna get in for me-”

“It can wait,” Eiji insisted, cutting across him. “You need rest!”

“What I need is to take a couple of Tylenol and work through the damn thing – it’s just a little fever! I’m fine!”

“So you go out there, spread germs around, give to other people?” Eiji snapped. “Real considerate, Ash!”

“They gave it to me first…” Ash harrumphed.

“You try force self to be busy, you make self feel worse!” Eiji countered. “Then you bitch to me about it. I not having it! Would rather you bitch to me about me stopping you going out, than you end up really sick because you ignore fever!”

Ash stared at him. Eiji was getting really upset about the whole thing, and he wasn’t even the one who was sick! “Eiji,” he said, exasperated. “It’s just the ‘flu! I’m not dying!”

“’Flu no joke, Ash,” he said quietly. “’Flu put my Father in hospital…”

“Oh.”

Eiji’s dad had been living with liver problems for much of his adult life. A few years ago, he’d caught an infection from work, just the sniffles really, nothing too nasty, he thought. He kept pushing through it to continue working, and had wound up with pneumonia which left him hospitalised. He thankfully recovered from the pneumonia, but his liver functions took a nosedive from his immune system working overtime, and he’d been stuck in the hospital since then receiving ongoing treatment. He was still there when he had left Japan, waiting for an organ doner, and as far as Eiji was aware remained there even now. Ash didn’t know the ins and outs of his condition – Eiji rarely spoke of it. All he knew was he was a very sick man.

“Just stay home today, let me care for you,” he pleaded. “Please?”

Ash sighed. It was pointless arguing with him; he’d only worry all day about him, and he did that enough as it is anyway! Plus, he had a point. If he rested, he could probably shake the damn thing off in a day or two, but if he forged on regardless it would take a week or more before he was feeling better again. He couldn’t really afford to take a day off, but he couldn’t afford to be sick either. He was too easy to catch off guard when he was under the weather.

“Fine,” he huffed.

Eiji sagged in visible relief, smiling kindly.

“It for best,” he said.

***

Eiji had made him take two paracetamol and then sent him back to bed. He’d willingly obliged. His body wanted to do that anyway, and it didn’t take him long before he drifted off into a restless sleep.

He had the strangest fever dreams.

Bones and Kong featured heavily in them. Bones had suddenly become about ten times smarter than he was and had seven degrees in various STEM subjects. He was showing off his certificates while dressed in a dog onesie. Kong, meanwhile, had shrunk to the size of a mouse and sat atop Bones’ head, singing a rap about how amazing Bones was now. Eiji appeared, bedecked with angel wings and a halo, and he pole vaulted ten metres into the air into the crow’s nest of a pirate ship Ash was suddenly captain of. Then Shorter, alive and well and wearing a tri-corner hat, boarded his ship and stole all his booty with Sing and Lao, and he chased them around Benny Hill style, Eiji flying above them and showering Japanese ¥1 coins down on them.

“I make big bank, Ash!” he exclaimed as he soared overhead.

“So did I, Ash,” said a more darkly familiar voice. He turned around and Dino was there, naked and dominating, blocking out the light with his presence and-

“Ash! ASH!”

He woke suddenly, Eiji shaking him.

“You were moaning in sleep,” Eiji told him. He was wearing a surgical mask, the entire lower half of his face now blanketed in white cotton. He’d brought a couple with him from Japan for when he got ill himself. The fabric undulated with the movement of his mouth as he spoke and slightly muffled his voice.

“The fuck you wearing that for?” Ash asked him.

“Protection.”

“You do know they don’t protect you from getting sick, right?” Ash told him. He coughed a couple of times before continuing. “What they do is stop you from passing your germs onto others if you’re ill or asymptomatic.”

“Then maybe you should wear mask and I stay in bed all day,” Eiji said haughtily. “I feel better wearing mask. It not hurting you – in fact, it protecting your fragile American immune system from my nasty Japanese diseases!”

“We shared a room last night – you’ve probably already got this thing from me by now anyway.”

“I still wear mask.”

“Suit yourself.”

He busied himself removing a damp flannel from Ash’s forehead that he hadn’t even realised was there. Eiji must have placed it on him while he was sleeping. The flannel was warm now, doing very little for his fever, so Eiji re-moistened it in a bowl of cold water, wringing the excess and replacing it. Ash didn’t feel especially hot right now though; he shivered violently, bundled up under the duvet. He snuggled deeper under the cover, wrapping it closer around himself. Something in the back of his mind told him that was the wrong thing to be doing when you have a fever, but the less rational animal part of him said ‘I am cold’ and cared little for bringing internal body temperature down.

“I did not want wake you, but looked like you were having bad dream,” Eiji told him. “I have got drink for you though. I made shoga-yu. Ginger-honey tea – it very good for ‘flu. Strengthen immune system! Many antioxidant!”

He sat up as Eiji passed him a chipped mug of sweet ginger tea. They didn’t have any teacups, so he usually made do with what they did have when he made Japanese drinks. He accepted it, the mug warm and comforting against his hands, sipping at the spicy tea tentatively. The ginger was strong, and it warmed the pit of his stomach comfortingly, plus it felt good to consume _something,_ even if it was just sugary liquid. The heat and honey helped soothe his sore throat as well.

“You need stay hydrated,” Eiji said sternly. “Fever make you sweat. I have left water on bedside table – make sure you drink often.”

“Yes, Mom,” Ash said sarcastically. He handed the now-empty mug back to him before settling back on the pillows. “Can you bring me a book or something?”

“Any particular book? Or you want paper?”

Ash pondered for a second. “Paper,” he said, “And I brought ‘The Color Purple’ back from the library two days ago because it sounded interesting. Bring me that.”

<“’Please’ would be nice,”> Eiji muttered to himself as he went to fetch the requested items.

***

For the most part, Eiji left him alone. He checked in every hour or so to make sure he was doing alright. Usually he was sleeping again, and he’d have to do no more than re-wet the cold towel and just leave him to rest. The one time he wasn’t sleeping, Eiji found him lying on his side, coughing away with his nose in a book, reading glasses slightly askew. Eiji brought him another mug of ginger tea and, when Ash told him kindly to ‘fuck off and stop fussing’, once again left him alone. He seemed to be a little pissed off at being forced to stay inside, to which Eiji had little to no sympathy; Ash had been keeping him inside for weeks now for his own good, and he was starting to go stir crazy with the boredom, so it was about time he had a taste of his own medicine.

He spent the morning doing his usual housework chores, although he forgo the vacuuming to avoid disturbing Ash. Between chores, he prepared some okayu, a basic rice porridge, leaving it simmering away in an earthenware pot on the stove to allow the rice grains to soften and start to disintegrate. It was ready just in time for lunch. He’d have some himself later, maybe with a piece of grilled fish and some simmered vegetables on the side, but he needed to feed the beast first. He ladled a small amount into a bowl, garnished it with a de-stoned umeboshi plum and a sprinkle of finely chopped green onion – both home remedies his Obaa-chan had sworn by! – and put it on a tray with a mug of green tea and a second dose of paracetamol for Ash to take afterwards. He would have liked to make some hachimitsu daikon, or radish honey, but he couldn’t source a fresh daikon radish without a trip to Chinatown. The only reason he had umeboshi was because he kept a ready supply of them on hand in a jar for himself as a comfort food. Being pickles, they kept for a long time, and he would stock up at the specialist Asian market when he could go out and shop. He imagined Ash would not take too kindly to him slipping out just for a root vegetable. Besides, Kong or Bones, or both of them, were likely on the lookout, would see him leave, and would escort him back for a Lynx scolding. Radish honey tasted gross anyway.

He carried the tray into the bedroom, finding Ash awake and still absorbed in the book, speed-reading his way through the novel at an alarming pace.

“Ash, it lunch time. I have food,” he said.

“Lemme finish this chapter…” Ash mumbled.

“No! Food get cold! Finish chapter later!”

“You’re being very forceful today,” Ash growled, reluctantly dog-earing the page and putting the book down, removing his glasses so he could see more than a metre in front of him with greater clarity.

“Have to be forceful – you very stubborn!” Eiji countered. “Also, do not fold page of library book! It not yours! You damage public property, like vandal!”

“Too late, I’ve done it now,” Ash snorted. “What food have you brought me then, oh wise and learned physician of mine.”

“Okayu,” Eiji told him. “Japanese rice porridge. Good food when sick. Easy to digest, make you feel better.”

“What’s the little pink thing on the top?”

“Umeboshi.”

“Those pickled plum things?” Ash wrinkled his nose. Umeboshi, like natto, were a taste he was not fond of.

“Just eat. Very good for health,” Eiji insisted.

Ash tried a spoonful, but his face didn’t seem very enamoured by the watery, starchy porridge.

“This is, by far, one of the blandest things I’ve ever tasted,” he said. He knew part of that was due to his sense of taste being off-kilter with the infection, but… it was just mushy rice and water with a pinch of salt when all said and done. He was also a picky eater – adventurous and willing to try new foods, but very quick to judge and dismiss anything that failed to pass the initial taste test, viewing them as disgusting without even considering giving them a second try in case it grew on him with time. His tastes leant towards the expensive most of the time too. Dino Golzine may have been many awful things but, when it came to food and drink, he was a connoisseur… Ash had been thoroughly spoiled with fancy meals as a younger teen although, considering the price he had paid to receive them, it was nowhere near worth the reward.

“It not meant to be delicious,” Eiji shrugged. “It meant to be easy to eat. Full of nutrient. Healthy food!”

“You could have just made me a salad,” he said. Eiji pouted, annoyed. It had taken several hours to prepare that! (Although, admittedly, it had taken two minutes to shove a couple of cups of rice and a splash of water in a pot – he really hadn’t worked that hard on it!)

“Well, what do Americans eat when sick?” he asked snarkily.

“Chicken soup,” Ash said. “The Jews swear by it – it’s sometimes called ‘Jewish Penicillin’.”

“Antibiotic no good for virus,” Eiji said cockily, trying to one-up Ash’s intellect. “Besides, we not have any chicken bones to make stock. No meat either, I need buy some.”

“Oranges too. Just… citrus fruits in general,” Ash shrugged. Eiji knew you could use yuzu in home remedies. They were rich in vitamin C, but he hadn’t seen the lemon-like fruit since leaving Japan.

“These all things I need leave apartment to get…” he said, frowning.

“Anything is better than water-rice,” Ash mumbled. Eiji grunted with an annoyed tone, marching out the bedroom.

<”He wants citrus fruit, I give him fucking citrus fruit!”> he muttered angrily to himself as he stormed up to the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter and grabbed the only piece of citrus fruit they had in the apartment. He had been planning to use it to make a nice, soothing drink later as a yuzu substitute, but now…

“Here! Citrus fruit for the picky American!” he announced, returning and plonking a whole lemon on the tray. “Enjoy!”

Ash gave him an incredulous look as Eiji smirked with what he assumed was a shit-eating grin behind the surgical mask. He now had two options: tell Eiji he was just being silly, accept that his lunch today was going to be a less-appetising version of congee no matter how much he complained about it, and realise that Eiji was doing all this for him to be kind and help him recover, even if he didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. Or he could eat the lemon.

He started to peel the yellow fruit, glaring at his irritating friend the whole time.

 _‘Peeled lemons look so weird,’_ he thought, as he pulled apart the segments like one would a tangerine. He tweezed a few stray strings of pith off a segment and, staring Eiji right in the eye, popped it into his mouth. It took all of his self-restraint to not react to the intense sourness, trying to resist puckering and screwing his face up in distaste. He still felt his eye twitching slightly as he fought the impulse, swallowing the fruit.

“You are psychopath,” Eiji said, looking a little disturbed. 

Ash ate a second segment, still staring at him, trying not to cough as the acidic juice burned the back of his already irritated throat. He knew he was being a little asshole, but he was in too deep now to back out. He could see Eiji starting to crack; if he continued to eat lemon segments, he’d eventually get his own way.

“I go fry you some vegetable or something,” Eiji said as he pulled a third segment from the lemon. “Make okayu more palatable maybe. Please stop eating raw lemon – it scary!”

Ash put the remnants of the lemon on the tray and Eiji took it back to the kitchen to try and spice up the rice porridge.

***

Ash had finally eaten the okayu after Eiji topped it with some mixed vegetables, chopped up small and fried off in a little soy sauce. Once he was done, Eiji had taken away the bowl, feeling more than a little annoyed when he received no thanks for his efforts. He’d once again told him to go away and leave him alone, that he was being worse than a mother hen. He knew Ash was just being moody because he was sick, but even so… Damn ungrateful American!

<”Next time he gets sick, I won’t care,”> he grumbled, pulling his mask off. <”Let him end up in hospital or worse! Doesn’t bother me…”>

Only he knew he did, it would bother him immensely to the point of guilt, and he would do the exact same thing again if Ash ever showed signs of illness in the future.

Ash had a valid point though.

<”This really is bland…”> he said, eating a bowl of okayu himself. It did seem to have much the same taste and texture of soaked newspaper. He remembered his Mother’s tasting somewhat better, although that may just have been nostalgia talking. There was a whole crockpot of it left to eat as well; he had been taught never to waste rice, so even if Ash refused to eat it, he would stubbornly finish it himself over the next couple of days.

He continued with his rota of ‘check in on him every hour but generally just leave him alone’, settling himself on the sofa to read a comic now his daily chores were complete. Around 4pm, Kong and Bones came to visit.

“We’ve not seen the Boss today,” Bones had said, stepping into the apartment. “Usually, we see him leave and he gives us orders to tell the others, but he’s not made an appearance today. Figured you may know where he is. You’ve not had another argument, have you?”

“He stay home today,” Eiji told him. “He not well.”

“Boss is sick?” Kong looked surprised

“I make him stay in bed,” Eiji said. “He in no fit state for gang negotiation or walk around New York.”

Bones and Kong exchanged a knowing look. Ash was never sick. Even when he was, he tended to ignore whatever ailed him and just kept going. He was tough, and he hated other people worrying about him. He’d had violent sickness and diarrhoea once before, barely able to move more than a couple of feet from a toilet, but when Alex confronted him about it and said ‘maybe you should just stay home, Boss,’ Ash had shouted at him, sucker punched him in the gut to prove he was feeling fine the minute Alex had touched him, told him to ‘mind his own business’, and then promptly puked in the nearest sink. That Eiji had successfully gotten him to stay home without a single mark on him for his effort was a miracle in itself, although Eiji was a special case.

“He stubborn though, took much convincing,” Eiji added. “I think he not like me much at moment.” 

“Eh, I doubt that,” Bones shrugged, again exchanging a look with Kong. The fact Ash had listened to him, followed his advice and let him take care of him, suggested he liked him very much.

“I’m just going to nip in and see him,” Kong said. “Sick or not, he’ll likely have orders for us. Alex stepped up and went to the Puerto Ricans in his stead too, so he’ll want to know how that went…”

“Be careful he doesn’t bite your head off!” Bones warned him, settling himself on the sofa and turning on the TV. Eiji found them cans of soda and some potato chips, joining Bones on the sofa to watch TV with him and chat.

Kong returned relatively unscathed about fifteen minutes later. “Boss was sleeping and woke up when I entered. He called me ‘Eiji’ when I first went in and told me I was being too loud until he realised it was me, but I think the mistaken identity probably saved me because he’s usually one nasty mofo when he first wakes up,” Kong reported. “He said that for orders, it’s just business as usual. We’re to continue keeping watch on… erm, yeah, and the others are to stay outta trouble. Alex did well with the negotiations, but he’ll go see their boss personally when he’s better. He looked pale and tired, but he seems to be doing well.”

“That’s good then,” Bones nodded. “He need anything else?”

“Nah,” Kong shook his head. “He said Eiji had got everything in hand.”

“Ano… I have request,” Eiji said meekly.

“Yeah?”

“I not allowed out, but… can you get chicken soup take-away anywhere?” he asked.

Bones put a hand on his chin thoughtfully, humming pensively. “Hmm… chicken soup?”

“Doesn’t Katz’s Deli do soup?” Kong queried.

“Oh yeah! That’s close by. They do the real good shit too!” Bones nodded. “Why do you need soup, Eiji?”

“It not for me,” he said.

“A princely quest? Say no more!” Kong said with a smile. “Gimmie half-hour!” With that, he let himself out the apartment, door slamming shut behind him.

“Ten bucks says it takes him longer,” Bones snickered, holding out his palm. Eiji slapped the offered hand, willing to accept those odds.

***

Twenty-five minutes later, Bones regrettably handed a smug Eiji a screwed up $10 bill.

“I got the soup, and also three corned beef sandwiches. I was hungry, and figured you guys might be too,” Kong said, putting a brown paper bag on the kitchen table. “There’s a bottle of OJ too – it’s what I always have when I’m sick!” He was a very considerate fella, really, huge and intimidating with his mohawk and chain necklace, but a big softie at heart. Eiji dug three plates out of the cupboard for the sandwiches. While Kong served them up, he decanted the soup from its container and into a bowl, giving it a quick zap in the microwave to reheat it thoroughly.

“I take this through to him,” he said once it was steaming, slipping his mask back on over his face. He put another dose of paracetamol and a glass of orange juice on the tray next to the bowl. “Maybe then he stop complaining all time.”

“Good luck, Eiji!” Bones cheered him on, accepting the sandwich offered to him by Kong.

Ash had nearly finished reading ‘The Color Purple’, and was sat up in bed deeply engrossed in the book, squinting at the words as the light faded.

“Turn light on – you strain eye!” Eiji scolded him, switching on the lights. Ash just glared at him through his spectacles.

“My eyes, I’ll strain them if I want to,” he mumbled.

“I bring food.”

“I guessed that,” Ash said sarcastically. “Is it more of that horrible rice-porridge stuff? Because I’m not hungry.”

“No,” Eiji shoved the tray under his nose. “It what you ordered earlier.”

Ash blushed slightly as he examined the chicken soup. Not just any chicken soup either – he recognised it as the type they serve at the Jewish deli, the type with the large chunks of soft, flaky meat and sliced vegetables, little doughy matzo balls floating in the stock. “Where did you…?”

“Kong go get for me,” Eiji sniffed, arms folded. He looked a little ticked off, not meeting his eyes. Not surprising really; all day long he’d been trying his best to nurse him back to health with what he had available to him, and all Ash had done is be rude and grumpy back. He’d taken those words to heart as well, bringing him the soup he’d only mentioned in passing to be pedantic, not expecting it to manifest itself before him. Ash stared at him with a weird expression, several confusing emotions swirling around inside him. He hadn’t had anyone care for him like this since Griff went to ‘Nam. While his friends cared, they didn’t persevere through his moods the way Eiji did, tending to leave him alone when he got snippy. Other people only did so when they would get something out of it. It was a weird sensation, having someone try so hard for him and not expect him to give anything in return.

“Thanks…” he said sheepishly. Eiji finally met his eyes, albeit briefly, but at least his body language softened.

“You are welcome,” he said. “I leave you to eat…”

He quietly exited, leaving Ash alone with his soup and numerous complex feelings of affection and shame.

***

Kong and Bones left around 9pm. They said cheerily that they would be back tomorrow, and that they hoped the Boss was feeling better by then. Eiji thanked them for dropping by and cheering him up, seeing them off at the door with his usual friendly host manner.

Once they were gone, he sighed and leaned against the door, feeling drained of energy. He didn’t think he’d be late to bed tonight – looking after Ash had proven far harder work that he had expected it to! He had one more remedy to give to him before he turned in for the night though, one that his Obaa-chan steadfastly insisted was a tonic for several ailments.

There was a bottle of vodka in the cupboard. Technically, it belonged to Alex, but it was left here as a free-for-all for them all when they drank together. It wasn’t the alcohol choice Eiji would have chosen personally for his Grandmother’s cure, but… when in Rome you use what the Romans use, and sake wasn’t exactly a freely available drink to underage American teenagers. He poured a healthy serving into a plastic jug, and popped it into the microwave to heat it up. While it warmed, he cracked an egg into a bowl, squirted a little bit of honey on top, and whisked it together. The microwave pinged, and he gently fed the hot 'sake' into the egg mixture, continuing to whisk so it wouldn’t curdle, creating a rudimentary egg-nog. He blitzed it in the microwave briefly a final time to make sure the egg was properly cooked through – usually, he wouldn’t have bothered with this stage, but American eggs could be dodgy eaten raw and, as Ash was already sick, he didn’t want to take chances – before pouring the mixture into a glass.

“Made you drink,” he said, bringing it into Ash.

“Good timing,” he said, removing his glasses. “I just finished my book!” He seemed to be in a better mood than he had been earlier, and there was some colour returning to his face. He still had a nasty cough though. “Is this another shot of that ginger thing?”

“No,” Eiji said, handing over the glass. “This is tamagozake. Grandmother remedy. Will help you sleep.”

Ash sniffed it delicately, tasting it with the very tip of his tongue. Usually, the remedies of elderly ladies were not the most enjoyable of things to swallow.

“Is that alcohol?” he asked, the distinct burn of vodka tingling in his mouth.

“Just drink it,” Eiji said. He sounded tired. “I have shower, then go to bed. It not kill you – trust me!”

He waited until Eiji had locked himself in the bathroom before sipping at the tamagozake. It was good – sweet and creamy, like alcoholic custard. There was enough vodka in it to tranquilise a small horse, or at least two gang-sized shots, whichever is the safer amount, and he felt the alcohol hit him shortly after finishing. Eiji had been right about one thing – it would certainly help him sleep. He sat the empty glass on the bedside table next to his completed book and reading glasses, shuffling back in the bed, and closed his eyes.

He was asleep by the time Eiji came back, settling himself into the bed next to him.

***

Ash was blessed with an immune system of steel. When given chance to rest, it never took him long to recover from injury or ailments. He was a strong kid, and bounced back to health with a terrifying ease. By the next day, apart from a nasty cough, his fever was gone, the fluff had been removed from his brain, and he felt ready to take on the world again. He wasn't recovered by any stretch of the imagination; he still ached everywhere and felt lethargic, but at least he could function and was no longer shivery. He woke up early, beating Eiji into the land of the living for the second day in a row, which had to be a personal best. He took advantage of him being unconscious to sneak out before he could stop him, so as to finish the tasks he had intended to go out and do yesterday. He’d leave the Puerto Ricans until he was feeling 100%, but he could go to the library and pick up that journal, then come home and rest and read it at his leisure. He did, however, grab Eiji’s spare mask from the drawer before leaving; after Eiji had called him inconsiderate yesterday for thinking about going around spreading his disease everywhere, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and keep his lingering germs to himself if he could while out and about. He might bounce back from ‘flu quickly, but the little old lady next to him on the subway might not. He could start a new youth street fashion statement!

Eiji was up and about when he came back at lunch, but something was off with him. He was sat cross-legged on the sofa, wrapped up tightly in the blanket from his bed, shaking violently, a mug of ginger tea in his hands. He was still in his pyjamas, his normally olive-toned skin a frightening white shade, large eyes dull and gammy with sleep and sickness.

“Jesus, you look like shit!” Ash told him honestly.

“Why th…thank you. C…caught your ‘flu,” he stuttered. He coughed lightly a couple of times into the crook of his arm. 

“Told you you’d probably already caught it.”

“S…sorry. Not made any lunch yet. D…did manage clean bathroom, vacuum carpet, then felt really cold... needed sit down…”

“Eiji,” Ash told him sternly. “Go. To. Bed.”

“But-“

“No buts!” Ash insisted. “Bed!”

If ever there was a case of the pot calling the kettle black, it was Eiji. It was with much reluctance he extracted himself from the sofa to pad unsteadily through to the bedroom, bundled up in the blanket as he shuffled along. Ash sighed, defeated.

“Guess it’s time for me to return the favour,” he muttered. “Chicken soup and weird rice water for lunch it is! I wonder if you can get oranges in the convenience store downstairs? Or maybe just one whole lemon...”

He snorted to himself, donned his mask, and went out onto the New York streets in search of nourishing foods for them both.

**Author's Note:**

> To begin with, I included Eiji wearing a mask purely as a cultural thing. The Japanese have worn masks to both prevent catching and to protect others from 'flu since the Spanish 'flu pandemic of 1918-20. To end with, can I stress the importance of wearing a mask during a pandemic? Not to sound preachy, but please follow your local guidelines. Also, wash your hands regularly, keep your distance, and, if you do get sick, stay home. Stay safe everyone! :)


End file.
